Resident Evil: Recovery
by Darryl-Flowers
Summary: Before dropping the bomb on Racoon City, the US Government decided to play one last card. Send in a team of Umbrellas best RET operatives to clean out the city.
1. Authors notes

Authors Notes:  
  
Ok, this is my opportunity to have a little rant, and do all the legal rubbish.  
  
First off, I don't own any of the characters, settings, or any part of the Resident Evil franchise. These all belong to Capcom (god thank them) and I write this solely for entertainment value. The characters of Darryl Flowers (wonder where he came from) and John Collidge belong to me, as does the rest of the strike team and Umbrella's Command infrastructure. If you wish to use my character, feel free, just tell me about it first.  
  
Now legal disclaimers are out of the way, time for me to rant. First off, don't complain about the names of most of my team, I was desperate.  
  
Now, I've fixed up my timeline and removed all reference to Code: Veronica (thanks Thea-Zara for point that out) and also worked out the dates that this mission falls on. And don't worry, it's perfectly crafted so it would be impossible for me to run in to any of the game characters.  
  
By the time this is posted I'd have revised the Prologue, and Chapter One, now that I know what's going on. 


	2. Prologue

Resident Evil: Recovery  
  
Prologue  
  
By the year 2000, Umbrella Incorporated was the single largest pharmaceutical in history. But, unknown to it's consumers, or even the majority of it's millions of employees, most of Umbrellas profit came from viral and genetic research and military experiments.  
  
One such experiment, the Umbrellas greatest legacy, and the brainchild of its founding members, was the 'Tyrant-Virus', more commonly referred to as simply the 'T-Virus'. The T-Virus was a mutagenic toxin that reanimated dead tissue, bringing the dead to life once again. While T-Virus research was being conducted around the world, the lead scientist on the project, Dr William Birkin, created the first successful strain at the Racoon City Hive Facility.  
  
When the 'Red Queen', the AI computer that controlled the Hive detected a viral outbreak it initiated lock down procedures that involved killing all of the Hives workers. Unfortunately, the virus was soon at work on the staff, re-animating them but decaying their brains, leaving behind only the most basic of functions, turning them into, for lack of a better word, zombies.  
  
For an unknown reason, however, it had failed to notify Umbrella Central Command about the incident. When they did learn about what happened, they had assumed the worst, that the Red Queen had gone homicidal, so they sent a RET (Retrieval and Elimination Team) to shut the Red Queen down. They succeeded in shutting the computer down, but in doing so released the zombies upon them. Totally unprepared, the team was slowly obliterated by the zombies and by a creature titled a licker, the result of injecting the virus straight into living tissue. No one is believed to have survived, but, according to Umbrella, the incident never happened.  
  
The Red Queens defences weren't perfect. Somehow, the virus had managed to escape, and affected the mansion research facility on the surface as the new researchers moved in to reman the hive.  
  
Later, after hearing reports of savage animal attacks in the Arklay Mountains, a Racoon City S.T.A.R.S. unit, Bravo team, was sent in to the mountainous area to search for missing hikers. When contact was lost with Bravo, Alpha team was sent in to search for Bravo team. Alpha was almost immediately attacked by what the survivors described as "Cerberus, the dog from hell". When their helicopter pilot abandoned them, they were forced to seek refuge in the mansion complex, unknown to what dangers lay ahead. After being attacked, the few survivors agreed to destroy the mansion and get out of there any way they could. Out of the ten people the only survivors were Chris Redfield, an ex Air Force officer and marksman, Jill Valentine, Alpha Teams demolitions expert, Barry Burton and Rebecca Chambers. The survivors decided unanimously that Umbrella had to be brought down. They had no idea the worst was yet to come.  
  
Not content with the T-Virus and having retaken the Hive, William Birkin, worked on it some more. Birkin started mutating the virus, and eventually created the most volatile of all, the G-Virus. When Birkin saw the potential in his new discovery, but not pleased with the money he was getting from Umbrella, he threatened to take his discovery elsewhere. Umbrella where not pleased. They sent a team to retrieve the new virus, at any costs.  
  
Birkin, mortally wounded and having his legacy taken away from him, decided on the only course of action he could. Using the last sample of the virus he injected it straight into his body, hoping to benefit from the virus' unprecedented regenerative capabilities. Birkin got more then he bargained for. The virus took over his body and caused a complete and utter change in not only his physical, but mental, state. When he attacked the RET team he released the virus samples into the Racoon City sewer systems, thus infecting every man, women and child in the city. Later that week, two individuals both headed into Racoon City, neither having met before and both for different reasons.  
  
Leon Scott Kennedy, a rookie cop recently hired by the RPD to deal with the growing zombie problem, and Claire Redfield, sister of Chris Redfield who came looking for him after he had disappeared, arrived in town as Jill Valentine and Carlos Olivera, a member of the UBCS were fighting their way out of the city wide zombie menace. Leon and Claire met up after they were attacked by zombies and headed for the police station.  
  
Though a long and complicated journey, Leon and Claire were able to successfully escape not only the city but also the second research facility, which also became overrun. But they were also able to rescue the only other Racoon City survivor, a young girl named Sherry Birkin, daughter of William.  
  
When the US Government learnt about Racoon City they had the entire area quarantined. When they were informed by anonymous sources about Umbrellas involvement, the Government forced Umbrella to clean up the area. Umbrella has employed its very best RET operatives, with Government support, to go in and recover the city. 


	3. The Mission

Chapter 1 The Mission  
  
Standing in the fluorescent-lit elevator, with their hair cut high and tight and wearing Umbrella Corporation black combat uniforms, the two men stood with expressions of boredom on their faces. They'd done this hundreds of times over the past few years, ever since graduating from high school together and being enlisted by the Umbrella Corporation. Both men had been friends for a number of years, and it was known that if one said no, so would the other. But Umbrella wanted these two. Darryl Flowers and John Collidge. It was a decision they had never regretted. The two men excelled at urban warfare and had the dirty side one needed to do their sort of work.  
  
But, beneath their veil of boredom, the two men were both very nervous. For, while the elevator ride was boring, mundane and routine, the mission they were heading to be briefed on right now was anything but. They knew this much, because two teams had been sent into that god forsaken city and bought their collective farms there.  
  
While details of the mission, of course, were classified, information leaked like a sieve. Especially since the word had got around that the corporation was in it up to their nostrils with the government. Something about an experiment going wrong. The assumption that Racoon City was the place in question was assumption of course, since information like that didn't ever spread. But what else could it be? Ever since the Government quarantined that sleepy little town, the rumour mill has been going into absolute overdrive. And why else would they only give orders to Darryl and John.  
  
The elevator stopped and let out its ever-annoying beep, indicating that the doors were about to open. The elevator doors slid apart and revealed the familiar long, narrow hallway lit with the familiar pale white light. Normally, this hallway would be so empty you could see the end of it. But not now. Right now the hallway was a scene of chaos, as lab technicians and government officials ran around, each in their own little world. The two men took one step out of the elevator and just stood, watching the pandemonium. Darryl draws in a deep breath through his nostril, pauses, and then releases it.  
  
John turns to him. "Shall we?" He asked. Darryl turned to look at him for a second, then turns back. "Lets go," replies Darryl, as the two step off, dodging the frantic workers. Despite all the commotion, they didn't have to raise their voices to be heard. "They'd better have a damn good excuse for calling us back. We were on holiday!" exclaimed John. Although he complained, Darryl knew he too was glad to be back. Holidays never really did suit them.  
  
Their holidays were full of bar fights and gangs attempting to rob them. One advantage of being one of the highest paid Umbrella employees and a soldier of fortune on the side is that you always had a lot of money. And there were always lots of people that wanted to take that money off of you. But both had broken the mould when it came to unarmed combat.  
  
Darryl gave a slight 'humph' indicating an agreement in their language. He also had an answer for his comrade. "Scuttlebutt is they have a big job that the government is forcing them to do. And it needs to be done by the best." John gave a little laugh and replied, "Explains why we're here. So what do you think the big job that they're being forced to do is? Racoon City?" Darryl, not wishing to give off any emotion this time, as he had every other time that damn city was mentioned, coolly replied with a simple, "Maybe." But he sure hoped so.  
  
They turned the corner leading to the briefing room. A thick steel door guarded the room. Off to one side was a small screen with the silhouette of a hand on it. This room, although possibly the most important room on the Operations level, was very lightly guarded. It was thought that there were enough security systems before this door to worry about it. For example, the forum security, on the street level. After that the unknown number of card readers, and also the special card needed to get onto this level in the first place.  
  
Darryl put his hand on the palm printer analyser, which, after scanning his hand, gave a short but sweet *beep* and flashing his details up on the screen, told him that he was authorised. John repeated the process, in a ritual they had performed so many times. The door slid open and the two men stepped through.  
  
Inside there was the familiar, almost comforting, briefing table. But seated around it where some new faces. Of those he could recognise, there was an Army and an Air Force General, probably advisers to the man who sat next to them, the President. Next to him was a man he didn't like a great deal, the Director of Operations - USA Division. Lewis Cramer was a ruthless person. His level of concern for the men under his command was met only by the level of concern he gave to the bottom of the toilet bowl. But this ruthlessness was not perpetuated in the man standing up the front. A man he felt was like a father to him. George Carter. George had been the man that recruited him into Umbrella and was also his basic training instructor.  
  
George Carter was now a burly man with greying hair, moustache, a beer gut and a sailor's handshake, but this did nothing to diminish the fatherly quality he exuded to everyone, not just Darryl. How one man could have so much love for people he hardly knew was always above Darryl, thinking back to his basic training. Caring for them, nurturing them, loving and supporting them, but never babying them. When Darryl graduated, he made sure he kept in contact with old George.  
  
As he walked through the room he walked right up to his old teacher with arms open and the widest smile. George returned the expression and put his hand out. He met his hand and they exchanged handshakes that could have turned coal to diamond. "Oh, it's so good to see you again George. How have you been? How are the kids?" Darryl asked. George replied to each question in turn, "I've been great. The kids are great too. They're in high school now. How about you? How have you been?"  
  
Before Darryl got a chance to reply Lewis made an obvious cough, saying more then he needed to. George indicated the chair in the top corner of the table. "Please, take a seat why don't you?" Darryl sat down and John pulled up the seat next to him. On the table was a manila envelope with the words 'Umbrella Inc. Top Secret' plastered all over it in red. No one else had opened their files yet, so neither didn't they.  
  
George clapped his hands together and started to talk. "Ok, now that you're all here, let's begin, shall we? Ah, I've already introduced the rest of you, but ah, everyone, this is Darryl Flowers and John Collidge. You'll find their profile, like everyone else's, in the 'Personnel' section of your file. Which I ask you do not open just yet. " "Ah, this is President George W. Bush, and these are Generals Marvin and Donohue. On your side is Ian Riggs, Carlos Rodriguez, Nick Burnside and Ryan Lee on the end."  
  
George continued. "Ok, you can now open your files. Let me run you through them. The first one you see is a general overview. You can read these in your own time. Next are research notes."  
  
Darryl looked at his research notes quickly as George went through them and noticed simply paper after paper with either one of two titles. 'T' or 'G'. Confused, Darryl thought he'd definitely be going through that with interest.  
  
George finished going through the files, categories like 'Locations' and 'Personnel'. He then passed the meeting over to Lewis Cramer. Darryl, even though he held a deep disgust for this individual, did not let his attention waiver for even a second, knowing that this mission was important.  
  
Lewis walked up to a podium that stood next to a projector screen. "Lights!" He called out, indicating that it was time to begin his presentation. For such a despicable human being, he sure was good at giving a mission brief. The projector at the back of the room hummed to live.  
  
The first slide clicked into place. It pictured a quiet mid-western town, surrounded by a large mountain ridge and pristine forests. The voice in the darkness started. "This is Racoon City. Located at the base of the Arklay Mountains. This photo was taken in 1997." The slide clicked over again. This time it showed the same mountains and pristine forests, but the city was in ruins. "This photo was taken one week ago." There was a number of gasps from people how didn't know what was going on. Not among them the President of Umbrella - US Division, sitting up the back cloaked in shadows. One of the generals was first to speak. "What the hell happened?!?" Making no attempt to hide the surprise and horror in his voice. The slide clicked again, showing a picture of some dead, decaying corpses lying on the ground. Only something was wrong. It took Darryl a second to realise what it was. They weren't lying. They were STANDING!!!  
  
Trying to speak through the utter confusion racing through his mind, all the could muster was a gasped, "What the hell? Tho..those people are standing!" Lewis was impressed. "Very astute of you Mr Flowers. Yes, these people you see are standing. They have been infected by one of the two viruses mentioned in your file. And they have over run Racoon City. Information about the dates has so far not been very forthcoming, though reports had been coming in to the police department as early as Mid-September, but we can confirm that as off September 25 the city had been completely over run. We have a UBCS team in there now, but reports are that they are being overpowered."  
  
Lewis went on to explain the history of both the viruses, their creator, the Umbrella Lab there, the accident at the mansion, the accident in the city as well as the previous teams. He spilled his guts because, Darryl suspected, the President was getting the brief as much as the rest of us were.  
  
Cramer, after spending the better part of an hour stating what has happened, finally got to the part that interested Darryl, what will happen. As Lewis began describing the measures they will be taking, Darryl, always impatient for the point and then the details later, stopped Lewis Cramer mid sentence with, "Lew, cut the crap already! Just tell us what our job is." Darryl tapped his pen on his notebook awaiting an answer and something he can write down.  
  
Cramer, feeling almost defeated by Darryl's comment, replied steadily, "Your job, by order of the US Government, is to go in to Racoon City and attempt, to all reasonable standards, to clear the area and reclaim it." Darryl was satisfied with that answer, and in the darkness, jotted down the only words he needed to know. 'Search and Destroy'. 


	4. Getting Ready

Chapter 2 Getting Ready Lewis Cramer, who, for the last hour and a bit, had been informing the group before him of the incident in Racoon City, felt a bit of relief as he moved onto the final phase of his talk, where he briefed the 6 men sitting on the table in front of him on the mission they were about to partake. He could imagine what was going through their minds; the absolute terror from being told they'd have to go into that city, when any normal person would be trying to escape.  
  
Darryl sat in silence. Now that he had been told what they'd have to do, he was happy to sit and listen to all the little details. He only listened half-heartedly to the person up the front giving the information to him. It's not because he hated his very guts, but because he was so used to Lewis Cramer giving details he knew he'd only need to tune in half the time. Instead, he let his mind wander over his part in the mission. He knew, being the commander, he'd be in charge of writing up the list for all the equipment he'd want, not to mention what he'd bring himself. The thing he concentrated most on was firepower. He didn't intend on being caught out by the undead anytime soon.  
  
Weapons had always been his ultimate forte. From the very first day at basic training, he could outshoot and outgun half the instructors. He thought about every aspect, calibre being one of the most important to him. He'd grown an immaculate understanding of the different calibers and bullet types, and understood just how important they were.  
  
If you wanted to injure, you'd use the smaller caliber full metal jacket, 5.56 for example. If you wanted one shot kills you'd use the higher calibres, like the 9mm or .40s. Darryl of course wanted one shot kills, but decided that the 9mm was to short range for his liking. He hadn't intended on getting up close and personal with the city's former residents. But the 5.56 FMJ was notorious for not killing its target with the first shots, even when the targets where alive, let alone undead. "Though," thought Darryl, "looking at that skin it ain't holding together well. Yeah, what the hell, FMJ it is."  
  
When he had decided that, he then went on to wonder about what sort of firepower he'd want for the group. He knew he'd want a machine gun. He had basically had two choices when it came to machineguns. The FN MAG or the Minimi. He'd be writing M240 or M249 on the form, but he didn't care. He'd grown up around those titles, and old habits died hard. After mulling over it for a while, he decided to bring both. If those guys at the armoury wanted to have a cry to him about the amount of equipment being used, they'd have to wait for another day.  
  
The rest was simple. He'd obviously want grenades, lots of grenades. He'd also want night vision, along with defensive equipment so he could set up a base of operations. And, most importantly, he'd bring ammo, lots and lots of ammo. But how much was the question. He decided instead of thinking up a number, he'd pack all the stuff into their vehicles, and then load it up with as much ammunition as he could stuff into them.  
  
Darryl, satisfied with that much, went over want Lewis Cramer had been talking about. He may not have been giving him his undivided attention, but he was sure as hell listening to every word he was saying. Basically, they were going to be flown in by two helicopters and dropped outside the city, just inside the perimeter line set up and manned by the US Army. The vehicles and half the men would be in the Chinook, while Darryl and John and one other would ride in the lead Blackhawk.  
  
From there they'd drive into town and set up a defensive position to work from. From there the decision on what to do next would remain with the commander. The rest of it was of little concern to Darryl. Although it was incredibly important information, it was standard. Radio frequencies, how often they'd want sitreps, and how to get out if things became too hostile.  
  
The one thing that did, however, interest Darryl, and surely the rest of the group, was their contingency plan. If they were unable to complete their mission; either if they were obliterated, or if Darryl decided to pull them out; then a small grade nuclear warhead would be detonated, completely destroying the city.  
  
The source of this nuke would be one of two, depending on why the mission was being aborted. One of the most disturbing additions to their kit was a self-contained nuclear bomb, that if Darryl had decided to pull his team out, he could place himself and detonate. If, on the other hand, contact with the team was lost, the worst would be assumed and the nuke would be flown in and dropped.  
  
Darryl began thinking of the international uproar that would cause, but before he was able to get too far in to thought, the lights switched back on and Lewis Cramer wrapped up his brief. They were dismissed to go and get ready, as they left 4 am the next morning. As they all began getting out of their chairs and heading for the door, Darryl overheard his men talking. "This is terrible", one of them would say, to which another would reply, "Those poor people. I feel so sorry for them."  
  
Darryl thought to himself, "You'd want to get over those feeling quickly." Personally, he didn't feel anything for the undead monsters roaming around the city. They were already dead, not much use worrying about them. He was more concerned about the possible survivors still in the city, how scared they must be. Although the incident at the mansion happened over three months ago, the infection in the city had only really taken affect a few days ago. Surely the entire population hadn't been taken over. If so, they really had their work cut out for them.  
  
Darryl remembered overhearing the blokes in Intelligence talking about some people that may have escaped. They must have really gotten on Umbrellas bad side to have them stick the Intel guys on them. One of the Intelligence Forces jobs was tracking down people that Umbrella had something against. More often then not, once the person was found, the work was handed over to the assassins in Umbrella RET groups. Darryl was one of those assassins, although he was never a big fan of the job.  
  
Having survived the horrors of that city, Darryl couldn't imagine why Umbrella would want to have them tracked down and killed. This raised some major moral issues for Darryl and, as much as Darryl would like to have gotten some answers to that, he had more pressing matters at hand. Although it was still another 10 hours until they left, Darryl wanted to get the paperwork done quickly and get down to the pub just in case it was his last chance. But despite his obvious desire to relax as much as possible, fully knowing he wouldn't be able to get to sleep, he knew the sooner he gave his orders the more time it gave his team to prepare.  
  
Darryl retreated to his room, which was conveniently shared with his best friend John, who he had always worked with, and the two just worked off each other naturally. Darryl had to wait for his second in command, Ryan Lee to arrive. He had worked with Ryan on a number of different operations, and the guy had his shit squared away. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Ryan came in.  
  
They sat at his desk as the three of them worked out their plan of attack. They decided that they'd haul up in the police station. Not only was the police station a large and easily fortified position, it was one of the few places in the city that has a helipad, so not only could they get out if they needed to, they could also get more stuff in if they needed to.  
  
Satisfied with their plan, and the orders written up and the requisitions list ready to be handed in, the two men headed for the equipment room to sort out their personal equipment while Ryan went to hand in their list. When they arrived, they went off to the locker rooms to have a shower, knowing it may be a while before they have another. The locker room was completely empty, the remainder of the team having already gotten their kit sorted.  
  
The steam that enveloped Darryl's body was comforting and soothing, but really dull. He couldn't wait to get in to his combat clothes. He turned the shower off and grabbed the towel that hung on the hook. John was already out of the shower and drying himself off. Darryl turned his back, not really wanting to see his bare ass.  
  
His memories cast him back to a time when he had come in late from training, gone for a shower, and had been in such a rush to get out and on the phone to his friend Jess that he generally ended up half dressed or missing the towel completely. He remembered those good times, but felt a sudden sadness when he remembered he'd lost her. Lost her to the very city he was about to enter himself. Jess had gone to Racoon City University to study archaeology, and was in to her second year when the virus struck. She was a smart and talented girl, and she knew how to defend herself, but the chances that she was still alive were remote. He put on his uniform and immediately felt good again. He may have lost Jess to the zombies and won't see her ever again, but he was going in there to avenge that loss. He looked down at himself in his uniform and thought how happy it always made him.  
  
The combat uniform for Umbrellas RET operatives was a black BDU design; identical to that the US government has for its soldiers, but straight black. Above his right breast pocket was his nametag, and on the left breast pocket was the Umbrella logo done in dark grey, like the rest of the embroidery. On the shoulder were the patches for Umbrella Retrieval and Elimination Teams.  
  
Darryl finished his clothes with his favourites he'd always taken. Kneepads, tactical vest adorned with drop leg pouches, one for his pistol and the other for more magazines and attached his cherished bayonet.  
  
He looked over at John, who was dressed in a similar fashion. He and John had always had the same kit, ever since their time in Army cadets. Each would make a modification and share it with the other who, if they liked it, would follow suit. "Let's go." Darryl said when they were both ready. They walked out the equipment room and went to a much smaller and less elegant briefing room. Darryl turned to his friend and said, "Hey John, can you go round everyone up and get them in here, I'm going to give them their orders." "Sure thing mate", John replied.  
  
The group filed in, sat down and listened intently as Darryl went over every small detail abut how things were going to happen. None of them were that intent on getting killed either. When he had finished, he let them go telling them to get as much rest as they could, suspecting though, that they'd have just as much trouble sleeping as he will.  
  
Darryl picked up his equipment he'd slung over the chair, turned to John as said, "Come on John, lets get out of here. I need a drink." To which John all to happily replied, "I thought you'd never ask." The two stuffed their kit in their room, and then proceeded to through the maze of corridors and elevators that would lead them once again outside, where they'd hunt down the nearest pub and forget for a moment that they were about to be slung head first into the fiery pits of hell. 


End file.
